


Reaching Out

by AMidnightDreary



Series: The Mage's Hands [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Ships It, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Magic, Slightly possessive behaviour, Smut, loki is a bit angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: On a mission that includes science, a ship and only two bedrooms, Loki discovers two things: Anthony Stark is a cuddler, and Loki might be in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a story I've initially written for a friend. He liked it, so I've decided to share it! It's already done, and I'll post the remaining chapters in the coming four days.  
> English isn't my first language, so sorry in advance for any mistakes regarding word choice or grammar. xD  
> I hope you like it! <3

Anthony Stark is a cuddler.

It isn't something Loki would have expected – it isn't something he would have _thought_ of at all. But now, with the human's arm wrapped around Loki's waist and his body pressed against the god's back, Loki doesn't really have a chance to not realize that, yes, Stark is a cuddler, and no, he apparently does not care _who_ he is cuddling with.

Not that _Stark_ realizes, of course. Loki can feel the other men's steady and deep breaths where Stark's mouth almost touches Loki's neck. Now and then a faint snore can be heard whilst Loki stares into the darkness of the – _their_ – room, which is enough to tell him that Stark is still fast asleep.

Loki is not, though, and there isn't the slightest chance he'd fall asleep any time soon. Because, even if he knows that he could just shove Stark's hand off his waist and push him over to his side of the bed where Stark _belongs_ , even if he knows that he should do exactly that, he – well. He doesn't.

Maybe it is the shock, Loki ponders. This isn't a regular thing, after all, and no one can blame Loki for being perplexed for a few seconds. And if seconds turn to minutes turn to _far too long_ , he is – oh, norns – in deep, deep trouble.

Not the first time since this unearthly trip began, Loki asks himself why. Why they had to take this ship which has only two rooms (or rather, booths) that aren't used for their work. Why Stark has insisted to share one of those rooms with Loki instead of Banner. Why Loki has agreed to accompany the two scientists in the first place.

Of course he knows every single answer to those questions (except maybe to the first of them, because Stark has enough money and Loki has _magic,_ for hel's sake). But he can't fathom why he hasn't left already. It is annoying and cramped and, by Audhumbla, Anthony Stark is a cuddler.

He should just teleport somewhere where he wouldn't be bugged. Somewhere safe, where he also wouldn't be faced with the temptation to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth that that unbelievable human bestows unknowingly, probably _unwillingly._ Because, let's be honest – there would be no touching and abso-damned-lutely no cuddling if Stark had known what he was doing.

Loki believes himself to be capable of a whole lot of self control. He is a trickster, the god of mischief, after all, and a flawless actor as well. He knows how to control his feelings, his wishes, knows how to store them away some place deep where they won't cause him any trouble.

But oh, it has been so long. And, yes, it is Stark. _Anthony_. And that is literally all it takes to divest Loki of his self restraint and decency (or, what little of that he had, anyway).

He will strangle Thor as soon as he sees him again.

It was his daft brother's idea (“You could help them, brother!”), but, well, it was Stark and that excited and curious glint in his eyes which dipped the scales (“Magic? You could help us with _magic_?”). And Loki agreed, which caused Stark to smile and clap the mage's shoulder in, yes, excitement _._ Before Loki even realized what he had agreed to, he found himself somewhere on the Atlantic with Stark and Banner. They are supposed to examine this thing beneath them, that whatever-it-is that causes half a dozen ships to sink in the span of two weeks. And, granted, it isn't Thor's fault at all. Loki has only himself to blame for this, himself and his foolish fondness of that human engineer.

Loki finds himself shifting rather uncomfortably, but he still doesn't make a move to free himself from Stark's loose embrace. He isn't even able to grasp a single useful thought. He hasn't been able to sleep since days (because sleeping in the same bed as Stark hasn't been easy already before that cuddling thing made an appearance). He is tired and frustrated and also getting angry because he _still_ hasn't pushed Stark away.

He grits his teeth. He is behaving ridiculously, and he is perfectly aware of that. If he gathers his senses sometime during the next few minutes, no one will ever know of this. Because Stark thankfully isn't yet -

“Oh my god.”

\- awake.

Loki's eyes widen in shock as he hears the other man's voice, and it is only now that he realizes that that steady breathing and snoring has stopped. But Stark doesn't sound appalled or angry, and that impression only deepens when the mortal continues speaking, excitement and triumph filling his voice.

“Hey”, he said, and to Loki's horror the hand that has been resting on his waist begins _tapping,_ abuzz in an attempt to gain the god's attention. “Hey, Lokes, you awake?”

Loki can't help himself, he turned his head to look at his kind-of-roommate (who was far, far too close), sharp words already on his lips. But Stark doesn't give him any chance to say them, a wide grin appearing on his face.

“Yes, so, I think I just had an epiphany”, he announces, sitting up and stretching briefly before jumping out of bed. “Come on, get your ass up, we have to work.”

He continues babbling about his idea, a way to fix some problem with their measurements they have had earlier, but Loki is barely listening. He just stares at the other man in bewilderment, unable to hide his confusion. Stark is already halfway out of their small booth when he stops to face Loki again.

“Are you coming?”, he asks, still grinning.

Loki blinks, forcing his next words out. “Yes – Yes, I'll be right there.”

“Great, I'll go and wake Bruce”, Stark says and turns to leave before calling back to Loki over his shoulder. “And don't dawdle!”

Then he is gone, and after a few seconds Loki moves as well. He dresses himself slowly, not willing to use his magic for help even though Stark has asked him not to stall. Because, helvete, he needs some time to wrap his head around this.

So, Stark is a cuddler. He has also, he _must have_ noticed the second he has woken up, pressed against Loki of all people. The trickster can't say when Stark has woken up, he doesn't even know how much time has passed since Stark has begun fondling him in the first place. But, just as Loki himself, Stark didn't move to loosen the embrace he himself has initiated in his sleep. And Stark has to know that Loki didn't resist as well. That he just... accepted it. Enjoyed it even, maybe.

That could be a problem.

When Loki eventually leaves their booth, he almost runs into Banner in the narrow corridor. The scientist looks disheveled and still half asleep, hasn't even bothered to put on proper clothes.

“Morning”, Banner greets him calmly. “Or night? Do _you_ know what time it is?”

“Two am”, Loki answers as they make they way towards the rooms they use as their labs.

Banner lets out a resigning hum, yawning a little. “Next time he wants us to work in the middle of the night, just coax him back into bed, okay?”

Loki stiffens a bit, looking at the other man with a scowl. “I do not have the nerves, let alone the will, to _coax_ _him_ back into _bed_.”

“Pity”, is the only thing Banner says with a smirk that earns him another glare.

As soon as they find Stark in one of their labs, he practically drags them with him, all the while ranting over his idea with a glint and glowing, triumphant eyes. Banner is just as inflamed quickly enough, even though his excitement is of a much calmer and more decent nature than Stark's. Loki stays somewhere in the background as always, watching the other men and listening as they span their ideas and plans. Now and then he would throw in his own thoughts, sometimes a snort or a mocking remark when he isn't content with the development. The other men turn to him for advice now more often than in the beginning of their trip, even go so far to ask him if he is satisfied with their plan, or if he has any other suggestions. It is – yes, it isn't as annoying as he is trying to persuade himself it was. Quite to the contrary, actually. Stark and Banner are almost _pleasant_ company, both bright and brilliant minds, and Stark's enthusiasm is a nice contrast to Banner's serenity. Loki actually _likes_ working with them. He likes watching Stark and listening to him in earnest, even if that means he has to ignore the smirks and looks that earns him from Banner. It is damned nice to be appreciated for his talents, for his own mind, and he relishes in the approving look in Stark's eyes every time Loki voices his ideas. He also can't get enough of the way Stark looks at him when he enchants the inventor's instruments to be unharmed from the cold and the pressure under the sea, how deeply amazed Stark looks at the magic that leaves Loki's fingertips. It makes Loki want to _thank_ the mortal, for he is the first to acknowledge what Loki is capable of.

But it is only now, somewhere around the far too early morning hours, when he muses with Stark and Banner over measurements and magic, that he realizes how _deep_ he has fallen. It is not until now that he notices that treacherous smile tugging at his lips every time he looks at Stark. He also becomes aware of that foolish flutter somewhere in his chest that appears when the inventor touches him. It is never more than a gentle, appreciative nudge when Loki has said something that brings them forward (“I swear to god, Lokes, you're a genius”) or an insistent pull towards their work benches (“Come on, we need your help here”), but it is enough to cause a raising of Loki's heart rate. And there's the fact that he can't stop _looking_ at Stark, and that his hands tingle with the urge to touch the other man every time he stands near the mortal. Loki can't dismiss this sudden longing for closeness, can't ignore how much he wants to hold Stark close and feel his skin beneath his fingertips.

It is foolish, pathetic, and Loki can't do a single thing to keep it from happening. He is lost and hopeless and confused, and he has fallen for a mortal man.

That hits him sometime around seven.

Banner has fallen asleep with his head resting on his workplace and Stark looks almost just as tired, but there is this determination in his eyes. A clear sign that he won't retire any time soon, not until they have fixed their problem. He is talking, or rather rambling, to Loki who tries to listen. He really does. Working always is a good distraction for him when his emotions would riot, but working with Stark doesn't do anything to sooth him. And so he is just staring (panicking a little, maybe?) as he comes to know that, yes, indeed, he is in deep, deep trouble.

He doesn't really have a lot of options now. Loki has been in – has felt _affection_ before, centuries ago, and longing certainly is no stranger to him. Usually, he has no restraints when it comes to getting what he longs for, and making the objects of his longing follow him into his bed always was fairly easy. _And boring._ So, if this were a mere case of longing, Loki would know exactly what to do. And, _oh_ , he would relish it. But this is, in fact, far more difficult, far more complicated, and the god of chaos finds himself not knowing what to do.

Hence the panicking.

“Hey, you okay there? Loki?”

As soon as he hears the words, Loki straightens his back and shoots Stark a sharp look. “Of course I am.”

“You kind of zoned out.” Stark returns the mage's gaze only briefly before he turns back to what Loki only now recognizes as a part of Stark's suit. “Were you listening?”

“Naturally.”

“Ah, yes”, Stark murmurs, smirking. “God of lies. I remember. Great, I had a glorious idea and you weren't even listening. Do you want me to repeat what I said?”

Loki shifts a little, fidgeting with his hands he keeps folded behind his back. “If you would.”

“I wondered if you could do that anti-frost thing with my suit. And that anti-pressure thing as well. Basically every anti-thousands-of-miles-under-the-sea thing you have in store.”

That distracts Loki from his earlier problem. He narrows his eyes, looking at Stark with a rather bad apprehension. “Like I did with your instruments.”

“Yes”, Stark nods, sounding satisfied. “I think I could manage that with science as well, but”, and he grins, “your magic's faster and it worked before, and I'd like to have at least one morphed suit.”

“Morphed?”

“Science _and_ magic.” Stark stops, looking up at Loki. “Sciegic? We could call it sciegic.” In reaction to Loki's not amused glance, Stark rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine. We won't call it that. Anyway, what do you think?”

“You want to dive”, Loki states. “Is that your _glorious idea_?”

“Magnificent, isn't it?”

Something inside of Loki just flips, and his magic reacts to his growing alarm with a few sparks dancing over his fingertips; something Stark thankfully can't see. “It's _foolish_.”

A frown appears between Stark's eyes, and Loki knows that his control had slipped too much, that Stark has heard the concern beneath the god's scornful words. But Stark doesn't probe into it – thank goodness _–_ and shrugs instead, raising his brows at Loki.

“Maybe, but one of us has to swallow that pill in the end.” He makes his chair roll over to another work bench and rifles through the chaos until he finds a screwdriver. With that he points at the still sleeping Banner. “And with 'one of us' I mean either you or me, because even Bruce's green friend won't survive down there.”

“You neither.”

“Yeah, that's because I need you to make my suit waterproof.”

“Your suits are far too heavy.”

“Right, but I'm sure we find a solution for that.”

“No”, Loki says, his voice firm. “No. I refuse.”

“Oh, come on”, Stark says, sounding almost pleading. He stops tinkering and looks at Loki, obviously on the brink of stating all the positive arguments his idea has to offer. But it seems that he forgets about those as soon as he meets Loki's eyes. And just like that, Stark's own eyes turn from determined to confused to knowing, and Loki tenses at the sight.

“And why do you refuse?”, Stark asks calmly, but with a hint of wonder coloring his voice.

“We both know who would be blamed for your death if I enchanted your suit”, Loki tells him, trying for self-centered. He is good in self-centered, usually, but somehow that doesn't seem to work with Stark right now.

“Okay”, the human says, drawing the word out. His eyes are positively sparkling, his smile far too _aware_ for Loki's taste. “Then I'll just write a note.”

“Pardon?”, Loki asks, all the while wondering why he hasn't gotten out of this already.

“For the rest of our team”, Stark explains, waving with his screwdriver, and no, Loki didn't fail to hear that “our”. But before he can say that the other Avengers are hardly _their_ team, Stark continues already. “Something along the lines of 'I, Tony Stark, solemnly confirm that I asked Loki – by the way, is it just 'Loki'? You don't go by 'Odinson' anymore, do you? Laufeyson? Doesn't matter, anyway – that I asked him to be the cause of my death and that he is not to be blamed for it.' Would that soothe you?”

Loki blinks. “No”, he says then. “No, not in the slightest.”

“Bruce would vouch for you, I'm sure.”

“No, Stark.”

“Tony”, the engineer corrects automatically, just like he does every time Loki calls him by his last name. Then, he sighs and turns back to his work. Undoubtedly trying to make his suit waterproof, as he has called it, without Loki's help. “You're a party pooper, Loki, and for the God of Mischief that's really kind of sad.”

“I do believe what you have in mind would be called a _kamikaze mission_ , Stark, and I will not provide you with the means to dive down there on your own.”

Another short glance and another of these smirks that somehow never cease to distract Loki for a second. But Stark's next words pull him back into reality all too quickly.

“Then I'll just have to prepare my suit alone, it seems.”

“That is -”

“The best idea we have. Or can you think of anything better?”

“I will go”, Loki says before without having given the words permission to slip out. “Without you.”

Stark bridles at that, looking at Loki as if the god has just grown an additional body part. “You? Alone? No chance.”

“Oh, of course”, Loki hisses. “My apologies, I forgot that I am still not trustworthy.”

While he hides his hurt with sharp words and sarcasm, his magic reacts with a few burning sparks dancing over his palms. Fire and heat don't harm him, usually – God of Fire, mind you – but yes, that hurts. He gives his magic a mental reproach, trying to get himself under control again.

“No, I just -”, Stark begins, but stops as he looks at Loki and shakes his head. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“And _how_ did you mean it?”, Loki challenges, even though he's not sure if he wants to hear the answer.

But well, there isn't much of an answer, anyway.

“Uh”, Stark says, but a sleepy voice saves him from forming a real sentence.

“You could just go together, you know”, Banner mumbles into the sleeves of his shirt, his head still resting on his arms.

“No”, Loki says instantly.

Banner sighs and raises his head to look at them. “Why? You could protect each other far better, that way.” He rubs his eyes. “And I can stay here with the instruments without having to keep up with one of you freaking out the whole time the other one's down there.”

While Loki doesn't like that idea at all, because he is able do that alone perfectly and doesn't need anybody to protect him, thank you very much. But there's also this thought ringing in his head that Stark might _want_ to protect him, because that's what Banner implied, right? But he dismisses it quickly, shaking his head already only for Stark to announce that he finds Banner's idea the most reasonable.

“Can you even survive down there?”, Banner asks Loki, but again the god doesn't get a chance to answer.

“He's a shape shifter”, Stark informs the other scientist before turning to Loki again. “Couldn't you get yourself some, uh, gills or something? You could also turn into a fish -” He frowns. “Wait, no, you wouldn't be really helpful as a salmon, I think. And I'm not fond of sharks or anything with a similar amount of teeth. Maybe a dolphin? Or -” He looks at Loki the way he always does when he is interested in the trickster's magic, curious and excited. “Could you turn into a _merman_? Cause that would be hella awesome.”

“Stark, I -”

“Tony, Lokes, and stop looking at me like that. You don't want me to go down there alone, fine, but you won't go swimming on your own either. Still, someone _has_ to do that job. We don't want any more ships to sink, right, and definitely not ours.”

In fact, Loki doesn't really care about any sinking ships. He would make sure to get Stark somewhere safe before he drowns (maybe Banner as well, for good measure) and letting the human go down there alone, where Loki wouldn't be there to get him somewhere safe _if_ he drowned meant that that is just not an option.

Which furthermore means that the decision has already been made.

“Very well”, Loki says, even if he can't think of anything _very well_ right now.

“Huh?”

“I will accompany you.”

Stark starts to grin, almost looking as if he _wants_ Loki to come with him. “As a merman?”

“No”, Loki dismisses sharply. “I will think of something else.”

“But no ten rows of teeth, okay? And you will help me with the suit?”

Loki sighs, but nods. It is rather apparent that he had lost this battle. Stark beams even more, and then he stands up and stretches. Even despite of his grin and obvious excitement over having an enchanted suit, he looks tired. No wonder, they have worked almost six hours straight and Stark hasn't got all the sleep he needed. Loki briefly wonders how he can persuade Stark to get some rest, but the inventor distracts him from that admittedly difficult task.

“How much time do you need for your sparkling stuff?”

Loki scowls, shooting Stark an unnerved glance. “Do call my magic that again and I _will_ be the cause of your death.”

But Stark just laughs, sounding fully satisfied with himself. “I'm sorry. Won't happen again, I promise. So?”

“A few hours, I assume, not longer”, Loki answers with a sigh. The way his magic is still, yes, _sparkling_ behind his back is a rather bad sign, though. He will have to get it into full control first before he can lay a finger on Stark's suit, and he already senses that that won't be very easy.

“Okay, so when we start now, we could be -”

“No”, Loki breaks the other man off. “Not now. I need to – I need some time, first.”

“Oh.” Stark blinks, his excited expression getting worried, suddenly. “Why? Something wrong?”

“No, I – I have cast many spells tonight. My magic needs to... recharge.”

“Wait, are you telling me that your magic has a refractory period?”, Stark asks with a chuckle.

Loki rolls his eyes, but he can't help the smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Something comparable, yes.”

“Okay, then take all the time you need to... get things going again.” For a brief moment, Stark touches Loki's shoulder, still laughing a little.

“It won't take long”, Loki promises.

“Oh, I'm sure of that”, Stark grins. “But until then, I'm fucking starving. And tired – yes, tired, maybe sleeping a little is a good idea. What about you, Bruce? Hey, sleepyhead, get up again.”

The doctor just murmurs something along the lines of “done arguing?” before getting on his feed in the end. “I think I'll go back to bed”, he announces drowsily. “Loki, try to keep him away from work, okay?”

“Won't be necessary”, Stark says. “As I said, eating. Then sleeping.”

Banner just puts the inventor off with a wave of his hand before wishing the other men a “Good night” and leaving the lab.

“I think my sleep rhythm is rubbing off on you both”, Stark wonders out loud, causing Loki's lips to form a light smile.

“It seems so.”

“Anyway, want to have breakfast?” Stark looks at the god expectantly. He seems almost disappointed when Loki declines.

“I'm not hungry in the moment, but thank you.”

“You're _always_ hungry”, Stark says with raised eyebrows, and because he is right Loki just shrugs.

“I need to see about a few things”, he says vaguely.

“Ah, the refractory thing?”

Loki nods, and Stark smiles an “Alright, then” and claps the mage's shoulder before leaving him alone.

As soon as Stark is gone, Loki relaxes, at least a little bit. He tries to order his thoughts, which he manages with sheer will power and the practice of thousands of years. Right now, there is nothing else he can do than regain control over his magic. Sadly, that requires sorting out his feelings.

And he has not the slightest idea how to do that.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tries to get along with his feelings. Tony is not helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, chapter two.  
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments!! I'm really happy you liked it so far.

A few hours later, the God of Mischief sits on the edge of the ship's prow, his arms resting on the low railing and his legs tangling down. The high standing sun and the sea warrant a rather lovely sight, but Loki's gaze is fixed on his hands. His magic has calmed down, not fully, but for the most part at least. There are still some sparks dancing on his skin every time he remembers that he is – and there's no reason to fool himself – _in love_.

It would be a nice feeling, with the warmth and the constant flutter of his heart. But there's still the panic, and also a whole lot of reluctance and ludicrousness. Because longing for Anthony Stark, and not just physically, embodies probably the most foolish and hopeless wish he has ever had. And there have been a lot of foolish and hopeless wishes in his life. He doesn't even know how it happened. In the beginning, Stark had meant less than nothing to him. And somehow, that turned into sympathy, the change mainly caused by the human's wit. Then, affection – found in amused smirks, ever so curious looks out of brown eyes and simple touches. Now and then brief flashes of desire, yes, but love? Loki feels as if _love_ has happened overnight, as if something inside of him shifted when he felt the other man's arms around him. And that something has decided that, yes, _this is what I want_ , and suddenly there is no turning back.

Loki doesn't exactly want to be in love. Not like this, at least, when it's such an hopeless proposition. He believes that he wouldn't have many difficulties to beckon Stark into his bed, but that is not what he _wants_. Not only, that is. He hasn't decided yet if that's what he will do, anyway, because maybe having one night or even a few is better than having nothing. Of course, he could try for something truer and deeper – but, being honest with himself, there's not much hope there. He doesn't think that Stark does _not_ like him, and maybe the human could reciprocate physical desire, but Loki can't bring himself to hope that trying for _love_ would bring him anything else than rejection.

He realizes this, and that earns him a flash of pain. It causes his magic to act up again, giving off energy in an useless attempt to balance Loki's feelings. The god curses under his breath, trying to make the green sparks vanish again.

“Was that Asgardian?”

Loki almost startles, turning his head to see Stark standing there behind him. His eyes flicker down to Loki's hands, but he doesn't comment yet on what he sees. The engineer still looks tired, causing Loki to wonder if he has even tried to sleep at all. Stark's feet are bare and his hair is even more disheveled than usual, but at least he has changed into new clothes. Not proper ones, in Loki's opinion – he isn't that fond of midgardian casual clothes -, but they are clean, at least. And the god can't ignore the fact that he always enjoys the sight of Stark, even if he wears those sweatpants some humans seem to like so much. Loki tries to hide his smirk, of course, reproaching himself because he should not like seeing Stark _at all_.

“Didn't you want to sleep?”, Loki asks, forcing his voice to sound distant.

“I did”, Stark says jauntily. “For two hours, at least. Thought I'd see what you're up to. How's your magic?”

“Perfect”, Loki all but mutters, turning back to the sea.

There's a short span of silence Loki doesn't intend to break, but it doesn't surprise him that Stark speaks again. “Do you want to be alone?”

Loki huffs without looking at the mortal. “Because _you_ would leave me be if I asked you to.”

“I would, actually. I just thought you might like company.”

“I -”, Loki begins, but breaks himself off. For a moment, he stares at the sea, and then he sighs. When he speaks again, his voice sounds softer than he would like it to. “I think I would not mind.. company.”

And suddenly Stark is next to him, letting himself sink into the same position that Loki is in, and rests his arms on the railing as well. It's far too close, somehow, with their thighs almost touching. He thinks he is able to feel the warmth of the man next to him, and it makes him think about how that body felt the night before, pressed against his back. Loki's hands clutch at his leathern pants as he fights to chase that memory away, and he turns his face away to hide his expression.

“It's a lovely sight”, Stark says after some time, and Loki hears the teasing note of his voice. “The perfect place to brood.”

“I am not brooding.”

“But it's such a picturesque scene -”

“I am not -”

“The sea and the sky and the lonely god, pondering over -”

“Will you -”

“It's kind of roman-”

“Stark. Drop it.”

The words came out just as sharp as Loki wanted, but Stark stays unimpressed. The human just chuckles. “It's Tony”, he reminds him once more.

At every other time, Loki would just join in that game Stark is playing. Usually, he enjoys their teasing exchanges, enjoys Stark's wit that is almost as sharp and amusing as the trickster's own. But now, he isn't in the mood for games like that, and after some minutes he believes that Stark should catch on that as well. He hopes that the mortal will just leave him alone again, but of course Stark won't do him that favor.

“So”, the inventor says, drawing the word out. He sounds uncomfortable, suddenly, even though his tone seems casual. “ _Was_ that Asgardian?”

Maybe this will turn into one of their conversation over the Aesir and their traditions and habits, Loki thinks, and forces himself to relax a little. He could do that, telling the mortal of the place he grew up – he did it a few times before, always taking care not to get too personal. And _not too personal_ is exactly what he needs right now. Glancing over to Stark, Loki catches himself smiling faintly.

“Yes.”

“It sounded like a curse.”

The god can't help it, his smirk turns into a small grin. “It was. We do curse in Asgard as well, you know.”

“I'm sure of that, but you always seemed too posh for swearing.”

“I beg your pardon?”, Loki asks with a frown, his irritation making him look at Stark again. The man is snickering.

“See, that's what I mean”, he replies eventually, still chuckling. “I think you're the most polite person I've ever met, even though you're an arrogant little shit most of the time.”

“I did many things I would not label _polite_ ”, Loki objects. “I literally threw you out of -”

“A window. Yes. You still have pretty good manners, Reindeer Games.”

Loki shoots Stark an annoyed look. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Yes, and I told you to stop calling me Stark, so we're kind of on the same level here.”

Loki can feel Stark's look on his hands, and that makes him want to hide them. He is nervous and uncomfortable, and even though he manages to hide it very well, his magic's a rather obvious sign that something isn't quite right. And Stark probably knows that.

“Is that normal?”, the inventor asks eventually, sounding almost tentative.

So, no lecture about asgardian culture. Loki stiffens, and for a brief moment, Loki doesn't know what to say – it's probably apparent that he does not control that magical drizzling. It isn't like there's any reason to perform that miniature firework show. There is no lie he can think of – which is very rare for the God of Lies – that would quieten Stark's suspicion. And so, he settles with the truth in the end.

“No”, Loki says, avoiding to meet Stark's eyes. “I mean, it is not exactly a malfunction. It's a... ah. A slip of control, you could say.”

He knows that he sounds frustrated and bitter, because yes, he hates loosing control, but even more he despises having to _admit_ that he lost it. He is sure that Stark is aware of that, but thankfully there's no hint of that awareness in his voice when he speaks again. In fact, he sounds curious, and the look in his eyes as he watches Loki's magic is not contemptuous, but merely one of fascination.

“I take it that it's not the usual refractory thing, yes?”, Stark says, perceptive as always.

“No, it is not.”

“Hm. Do you think it's permanent?”

Loki can hear a by now familiar determination in Stark's voice – Loki has heard that tone often already, each time when one of the mortal's invention doesn't work like it's supposed to. And maybe that is exactly how Stark sees Loki's magical problem. He has noticed that Loki doesn't want his magic to do what it does in the moment, that it is not _supposed_ to work like this. And yes, maybe that _is_ a malfunction in Stark's eyes, and that means it's a problem that he wants to fix.

“No”, Loki answers the human's question, carefully watching Stark's face. “Not usually, at least.”

“Oh, so that happened before? That's good. So, do we just wait until it stops again or is there anything we can do?”

“We?”, Loki repeats, smiling despite of himself. He feels almost touched by Stark's obvious will to help him, and _of course_ that causes his heart to flutter again. He keeps his voice steady, anyway, only with a hint of disapproval at Stark's choice of words. “No, there is nothing _we_ can do.”

Stark sighs, his look telling Loki that his attitude is not helping. “Fine. Is there anything _you_ can do?”

Loki hesitates, feeling that he won't like at all where this conversation is going. “Of course there is. But it is... difficult to explain to someone who has no magic himself.”

“Oh, hit me, anyway. I have full trust in my intellect, and it can't be that hard to understand.”

Loki lets out a faint huff, looking at the sea while pondering over how to put this in words without revealing too much. In the end, he finds himself just explaining, trying not to think about how long it will take until Stark connects the clues.

“You see”, he begins, his voice cautious, “my magic is not merely a tool I use for my advantage, or a weapon I fight with. It is far more than that – a part of me, an expansion of my thoughts and emotions. It is linked to both, and it acts and changes as they do.”

“So”, Stark says slowly, looking again down at Loki's hands. “When they're... I mean, when _you_ are troubled, then... that's how it reacts?”

Loki tenses, probably visibly, but he forces himself to answer calmly. “Yes.”

Stark is quiet for a moment, and Loki doesn't really know what to say to avert the catastrophe, so he stays silent as well. When Stark speaks again, he sounds – yes, he sounds guilty. That surprises Loki, and he looks up to meet the mortal's eyes, only for the other man to avert his gaze.

“Is it, er, dangerous?”, he asked, apparently trying to seem casual. “I mean, it doesn't hurt you, does it? Because those sparks look, uhm. Parching.”

It's worry. Worry and discomfort, clearly visible in the way Stark picks an imaginary lint from his pants and keeps avoiding Loki's eyes. And the guilt can not only be heard in the inventor's voice, but Loki sees it as well when Stark's mouth twitches and a frown forms between brown eyes.

“No”, Loki says, unable to hide his surprise. “No, it doesn't hurt. It's just a form of... I think you would call it 'letting off steam'.”

Stark seems relieved, and Loki watches the human's expression in bewilderment. There is just something so _off_ about Stark's behaviour, causing Loki to be a little bit concerned. He feels as if he has overlooked a step, and while he waits for Stark to speak again he wonders what has slipped his attention.

“Is that my fault?”, Stark asks eventually, pulling Loki out of his musing. They look at each other for a moment, and apparently Loki's lack of understanding is visible in his face, because Stark tries an explanation. “I mean – you know. Last night?”

Loki blinks, but then understanding dawns and he would very much like to end this conversation exactly at this point, because there is no way he can admit what a chain reaction Stark's sleep-cuddling has initiated. But he doesn't vanish into thin air, even if he plays with the thought for a brief moment. Instead, he just stares until he gathers his senses, and then he clears his throat.

“It might have something to do with that, yes.”

“Oh god”, Stark mumbles and raises his hand to rub over his face. “Look, I'm sorry. Like, _really_. I know you're not the, you know, hugging or cuddling kind of person, and me neither, usually, but I just tend to get clingy when – anyway, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. So, yeah. Sorry.”

Loki has listened to Stark's rambling, feeling his eyes widen in surprise even though the tension doesn't leave his body. The human looks at him, apologetically, and Loki realizes that the other man is indeed afraid that he has caused Loki trouble, that he feels _guilty_. That he does not want Loki to feel uncomfortable around him.

And really, that is not what Loki expected. He thought Stark would understand at once _why_ that cuddling thing has such an effect on Loki, and that he would react with aversion and, in the end, rejection. And that none of that seems to come in the moment makes Loki think that Stark simply hasn't understood yet.

“You were sleeping”, the mage says as soon as he finds his voice again. “You don't have to apologize.”

Again, there's something like relieve in Stark's eyes, mingled with a surprise that almost hurts _._ Because, somehow, they have become something similar to friends along the way, even if Loki gives his very best to seem annoyed by the human. He is sure that Stark is able to look behind that facade, and the fact that he apparently expected anger and rejection from _Loki_ makes the god feel somewhat hollow.

A pensive hum from Stark pulled Loki out of his thoughts. “I thought so, to be honest”, Stark said. “But that thing with your magic made me worry a bit.”

“You thought what?”, Loki asks, his discomfort coloring his voice.

It seems that Stark doesn't really know how to answer, because he takes his time. And even when he replies it is just to ask a counter question. “Was that the first time?”

“Yes”, Loki says with a bit of suspicion, and he keeps eyeing Stark cautiously.

“Oh”, it comes from Stark, as if that information surprises him. “Okay. Good. But...”

“Yes?”

“You were awake, weren't you? I know you were when _I_ woke up.”

Loki has to swallow, and he looks away again because he can not help the feeling that Stark _knows_. “I was.”

“You could have...” Stark's voice trails off, but it doesn't take him long to catch himself again. “You could have just pushed me away. But -”

Loki stiffens even more, and by the way how Stark has stopped the mage knows that the mortal sees Loki's tension and that he does interpret it in the right way. His voice sounds unusually soft when he continues, which causes Loki to cringe inwardly, with shame and reluctance.

“But you didn't. And that made me think that you might have... liked it, maybe? Which would be totally okay, by the way.”

“Why are you doing this?”, Loki all but hisses, still not looking at the man next to him.

“What, talking to you?”

Loki keeps quiet, but it seems that Stark takes that as an affirmation. The god is well aware that his magic is getting _worse,_ and he doesn't remember it ever being as disobedient as it is now. It frustrates him, but he grits his teeth and tries to ignore it, even if the green and gold are practically blazing.

“I just...”, Stark says, his voice quiet, “I want you to know that it's alright. I'm glad, even. _If_ you liked it, that is.”

Loki hears the question in those words, but he doesn't want to answer it. Maybe if he just _ignores_ this conversation, it will stop on its own, and so he stares blankly ahead. He hears Stark sigh.

“I did like it, you know”, he announces lightheartedly, startling Loki into looking at him again. Stark's brown eyes look gently into green ones, and to top that off Stark grins a little as well. “I really did, and I wouldn't be averse to repeating it.”

His smirk is too ambivalent for the fact that they have only been cuddling, and, norns, it wasn't even _real_ cuddling. Somehow, Loki gets angry because of that, because he is too on edge right now to react to Stark's words like he would at another time. Because, yes, he recognizes Stark's behaviour as flirting – and a part of him finds immense joy in that realization – and if he didn't feel like such a _mess_ right now, oh yes, he would flirt back. But then, a bigger part of him is unsure if it really is flirting or just mere wishful thinking from his own side, and the thought that the human might be mocking him angers him even more.

“Oh, I am sure of that”, he says through clenched teeth, sarcasm and frustration practically dripping from the words. “Leave me alone.”

“Loki -”

“ _Leave me alone._ ”

And Stark doesn't say another word before he leaves.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is not good in telling what he feels. Tony neither, but at least he tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand chapter three.  
> Thank you so, so much for your comments and all the subscriptions and kudos!! All of them made me very happy.  
> I love how much you all feel for Loki and, yes, he's really standing in his own way here. But they're going to get it together, I promise. xD  
> Have fun reading, and please let me know what you think!

Loki can't say how much time has passed. As soon as Stark was gone, he let out a a quivering breath, his head sinking down to rest on the railing. And now, he is still in that position, forcing himself to breathe steadily and order his thoughts. He feels tired, which is no wonder because even gods could use some sleep after days of wakefulness. But he knows that trying to sleep would be useless, so he just stays where he is and chides himself.

It is almost funny, really. Because, after he has calmed down at last, he is almost able to believe that Stark just tried to reach out for him. And if that's true, then it hasn't been Loki who got rejected, but _him_ who rejected _Stark_. And maybe now is the time to leave this ship, because he won't be able to work with Stark and Banner like before, not after what just has happened. Because, even if Stark wouldn't be _averse_ to some physical closeness, Loki still doesn't hope for anything more than that. Technically, that doesn't change anything, but Loki knows that he has revealed too much. Whether Loki likes it or not, Stark knows him too well by now, and the human most likely hasn't mistaken the god's reaction for anything else than suppressed feelings. Loki feels mortified, and he knows perfectly well that it is his own fault. He fears that he has ruined the only chance he might have had, and he is at a complete loss what to do. He doesn't even know what to think, because Stark has confused him with his maybe-flirting, and Loki has always hated incertitude.

Many times in his life, he has been accused of being coward, because he prefers intrigues and ruses to open attacks. But now, there is no intrigue and no ruse that could get him what he wants, and so he basically has only one option left.

Loki raises his head and wipes his face, noticing with bitter satisfaction that that ridiculous sparkling has stopped. It seems that now, as he knows what to do (and also what to expect, even though he can't get rid off an dim glimmer of hope), his magic has calmed down again. He still feels its energy in his body, tingling just beneath his fingertips. It helps to soothe him, despite still being cross that he has lost control over his powers in the first place.

He forces himself to get on his feet, absently tugging at his clothes to make sure they are in place, and then he makes his way to their laboratory. He knows that Stark will be there, and he isn't disappointed. There he is, but surprisingly not tinkering with his suit but with one of their instruments. The device has seen better times, apparently being taken apart by the engineer in the moment, and Loki recognizes the different parts as fragments of one of the things he enchanted the night before.

“Don't we need that, still?”, he asks, since Stark hasn't yet noticed that Loki has entered the room.

At the god's words, Stark looks up, and instead of looking annoyed he smirks. “We have another one somewhere here.”

“That does not explain why you destroyed this exemplar”, Loki says, eyeing the human cautiously. He stays where he is, close to the door with his hands behind his back to hide potential sparks. He doesn't quite know how to behave, but it is somewhat reassuring that Stark doesn't dismiss him instantly.

“Oh, please, I could put that together again in a few minutes”, Stark replies, turning around in his chair to look at Loki properly. “I tried to get behind your magic.”

Loki quirks an eyebrow at that. “Oh?”

“It _has_ to have some measurable effects”, Stark insists, his look positively challenging Loki to convince him otherwise.

Which the god gladly does.

“It's just a protection spell”, he explains. “Like a layer that enwraps the item, shielding it from external conditions.”

“I thought so”, Stark says, his smirk turning to a grin as he picks up one of the fragments. “There's no change in the material, which would be there if you had enchanted the substance itself, right?”

“Right.”

“Is the spell still intact?”

“It still works for the individual parts, yes”, Loki affirms, only now daring to step further into the room. “Is Dr Banner still asleep?”

“I think so, at least I heard him snoring when I passed his room earlier.”

So it is unlikely that they will be interrupted, which is good. It seems that Stark knows why Loki is here, or at least that he wants to say something, because he watches the god carefully, expectantly. The trickster knows that an apology could be a good thing to start with, because he might have overreacted earlier, but somehow the words don't want to pass his lips.

“Okay, did you come to say something or not?”, Stark asks suddenly. “Because if not, then I'd like to show you something.”

Loki stays quiet, because he doesn't know what to say. There are so many things he has in mind ( _\- care for you. I think I love you. I know you could never fall for someone like me, but just let me stay, I will -_ ) but he just keeps staring, his thoughts racing while trying to find a way to start this conversation that doesn't make him cringe.

Suddenly, Stark stands up and moves to leave the room, and Loki falls out of his stiffness. “Stark, I -”

“ _Tony_. Just come with me, okay?” Stark's mouth twitches as he sees Loki's hesitation, but he doesn't comment on it and just leads the way out of their lab.

With a frown, Loki follows him, only to realize that they are on the way to their shared room. Loki's frown deepens, but he doesn't say anything until they reach their booth. When they are inside, Loki watches as the inventor crouches before the suitcase he practically lives out of since they are here. Stark is obviously looking for something, and even though Loki gets impatient he waits until he hears a triumphant “aahh” from the other man. When Stark stands up, the mage is surprised to see that he holds a book in his hands.

“Okay, so”, Stark begins, seeming to feel quite as uncomfortable as Loki himself, “you asked why I was doing, uh, 'this'. You meant that reaching out thing I tried, right?”

Loki affirms Stark's guess with a nod, trying to hide his growing confusion. At least his abashment begins to cease, but still – He has no idea where Stark is going with this, and that doesn't change when Stark hands him the book. He looks down at it and reads the title, at first without grasping the meaning of it.

“Norse Mythology”, he reads out loud, raising his eyes to look at Stark again.

“Yup.” The human stands in front of him with crossed arms, grinning almost... sheepishly. Clearly an expression Stark does not wear very often.

Loki frowns at the inventor, his mind still not able to conceive what Stark is trying to tell him. “So?”

“It's about you”, Stark says as if that explains everything. “Well, mostly. I mean, you play an important role in most of these, er, stories. Or would you prefer to call them 'myths'? Because -”

“Stark”, Loki breaks the mortal off. “Why -”

“ _Tony._ Come on, it's not that hard. Tony. I even say please."

“Anthony -”

“Seriously?”

Loki glares at the other man, but suddenly he feels himself give in. “Tony”, he says, testing how the name feels on his tongue for the very first time. He himself isn't particularly fond of nicknames, even though the engineer seems to prefer it to his given name.

“Thank you.” _Tony_ sounds immensely pleased, as if he likes hearing the god say his name.

Loki is on the brink of saying it again, just to see Tony smile. But he doesn't, because he still has that book in his hands and _still_ has not caught on whatever Tony wants him to understand.

“Why are you showing me this?”, Loki asks. “Why are you _reading_ this?”

Tony shrugs. “I thought it would help to get to know you a little better, I guess.”

Loki blinks and stares as he feels a shadow of his earlier anger rising up in him, almost leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “Why? To learn more about potential weaknesses?”

“What? No, I – you do know that you're too paranoid for your own good, right?”, Tony says, sounding almost annoyed. He lets himself fall on the edge of the bed, not without giving Loki a rather unnerved glance. “Okay, I'm going to ramble a bit now, and you'd better be listening because I'm not going to repeat myself.”

Loki waits, but apparently Tony needs further encouragement, so he tries to provide some. “I'm all ears.” It sounds dry, but the anger has faded and left only confusion and, yes, curiosity. (Maybe even a little bit of _hope_ , even though Loki wants none of that.)

“I read this book”, Tony starts, “because you're probably the most interesting person I've ever met, and you wouldn't answer any of my questions. I read it because I want to _know you_ and you really make that fucking hard. You seemed so pissed earlier – that has nothing to do with that book, but still –, and I thought that was my fault. I suppose it was, and I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable, cause I'm really trying to not fuck this up. Whatever it is, anyway. I don't know what you'd like it to be. But, whatever, I _like you_ , even though you're a bastard, and I don't want you to hurt. And you _were_ hurting, so I tried to help but didn't know how, so – uhm. I had a point somewhere. I just -”

Tony stops, and Loki _gapes._ He has trouble to process everything the human has just told him, trouble to grasp what lingers beneath the words and in Tony's eyes. Eyes that look up to him in something similar to horror, as if he is shocked by his own rambling. At some point during his speech, the mortal has started to blush, and Loki has enough of his senses together to think that he has never seen the inventor blush before.

“You're sparkling again”, Tony states.

Loki looks down at his hands that still hold the book, and swallows rather heavily. “I am.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to -”

“No”, the mage says, all the while trying to _calm down_ and failing miserably. “It's not your fault.”

“So, that has nothing to do with me, eh?”

The mocking – _flirtatious –_ tone of voice earned Tony a rather fuming glance from Loki, which apparently made him realize that this was not the right time for bantering.

“Okay, uh - Not helping, I get it. Sorry.” The human took a deep breath before continuing, while Loki watched him cautiously. “I'd like you to know that I don't mind. That... sparkling stuff. It's quite charming, actually, even though I'm not really sure what it means exactly, but it's really kind of cool. And, er, you can – I mean, you can talk to me about what's troubling you. Always. I'm sorry if I harassed you earlier when you clearly _didn't_ want to talk, and you don't _have_ to, of course, just... know that I'm here. Okay?”

After a small moment, Loki clears his throat, unable to keep his eyes locked with Tony's and instead looking down at the book. “You... talk a lot”, he says because that is the first and only thing that comes to his mind, and he has to say _something_.

“Yes, I tend to do that”, Tony affirms with an almost too sharp laugh. “Anything to say in response?”

Loki's head is full of things he would like to say – but he doesn't dare, not yet, because even if he notices that Tony is driven by affection towards _him_ , the god can't say how deep the mortal's feelings go. All that he said, however _pleasing_ it might be, could pass as mere fondness and worry for a friend. Loki believes that if he weren't as irritated as he is now, he would be able to read Tony's behaviour more efficiently, but now his mind is almost foggy with relief. And for now, that is the only thing he dares to express.

“Thank you”, he says, his thumb stroking absentmindedly over the book's cover. “Thank you. For... reaching out. Again.”

“Gladly”, Tony replies simply, sounding just as genuine as Loki does.

Loki forces himself to smile, at least a little, and look at the other man. “And you really don't need to feel sorry. I think it is me, who...” He trails off for a moment, but quickly pulls himself together again. “I should apologize. I was very... repellent, earlier.”

“It's alright”, Tony reassures him quickly, putting Loki's apology off with a wave of hand. “I mean, I caused you to be, probably, so don't worry about it.”

There's an undertone going along with the words that catches Loki's attention, making him frown slightly at Tony. “What do you mean?”

Tony blinks at him, tilting his head to the side. “The flirting? The cuddling? I thought you were, uh, _interested_. But I might have gotten something wrong there, or maybe I overplayed and got on your nerves, and... ”

He knows. Norns, he knows – Loki suddenly feels numb when the meaning of Tony's words sicker through his mind, and he tries to calm down so he can process them properly. Eventually, something shifts, and he exhales and clears his throat and shakes his head.

“No”, he says firmly, causing Tony to raise his brows.

“Huh?”

“You have not – I mean, you were right. I am -” He breaks off, because his mind is rambling ( _-_ _in love, just let me stay and I will try to-_ ) _,_ but in the end he manages to finish his sentence with more acceptable words. “- not disinterested.”

“Oh, thank god”, Tony says.

The mortal's face lights up. His maybe embarrassed, but certainly forced grin changes into a genuine, even if hesitant, smile, and his eyes fill with relief and something not dissimilar to giddiness. Maybe it's just smugness, Loki can't tell, but _he_ undoubtedly feels giddy and that is no emotion he is familiar with in any way and he still feels as if he can't _think_ properly. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and tries to get his chaotic thoughts in order, because he still has to find out what exactly it is that Stark – no, not Stark, _Tony_ – wants from him.

“Loki?”, he hears said human ask, his tone tentative. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine”, Loki replies instantly, snapping his eyes open and clearing his throat for what seems to be the tenth time since this conversation started. “I am just... wondering.”

Prompting Loki to continue, Tony raises his brows. “Spit it out, Lokes.”

“I wonder what it is that you want”, Loki explains, his eyes wandering over the other man's frame in search of answers. “From me.”

“Oh”, Tony says and blinks up to him.

He takes his time, pondering over what he wants to say, and Loki tries to stay patient as he folds his hands behind his back because he is _letting off steam_ again. Tony seems to notice that, Loki can see the human's eyes flickering down, and then he smiles. It is not even remotely similar to the wide, confident grin or the smug smirks he usually wears, but he _is_ smiling.

“As I said, I like you”, Tony says eventually – and his tone indicates what he really means; it makes the unsaid words fill the air between them, makes Loki's breath hitch and his heart pound faster – and Loki has trouble concentrating on what else Tony has to say. “I really do, and I'd like to be with you, so if you could try to stop pushing me away, that'd be great. And the rest – well, that's pretty much up to you.”

“Up to me?”, Loki repeats, his voice only barely steady.

“Well, _I_ am always up for a fling, I think you know that”, Tony answers, sounding more upbeat than he is, judged by the look in his eyes. “And if that's all you want, it's – well, not _fine_ fine, but okay. I could settle with that.”

Loki's nails dig into his palm behind his back. “You would... you would want more?”

Tony stays silent for a moment before he shrugs. “”Why not?”, he asks then.

Loki has no idea how to respond to that, because there are a million reasons _why not._ He cannot believe that Tony might _want_ him for more than just a frantic night, and that he, Loki, who is so familiar with facades and illusion, has been so oblivious to Tony's desires. Of course, they _have_ been flirting, but Tony flirts with pretty much everything he can get his eyes on, and Loki has always believed it to be a part of their games – testing the waters, maybe even wanting to know how much it takes for a mortal to seduce a god. But sincere interest in _Loki_? The mage has never believed that that could be.

“I'm really trying to not fuck this up”, Tony says once more, as if he wants Loki to be completely sure of it. The god blinks, forcing himself to concentrate on what Tony has to say. “But fucking things up is a habit of mine, kind of. And one of yours, too. But if we just _try –_ I think it would just... work, you and me.”

Oh, Loki knows that. He and Anthony Stark, _together_ , more than almost friends and almost allies – they could conquer the world, like that. _All the worlds_. They would fit together perfectly, with their matching intellects and broken parts. They would be chaos and mischief, and plainly loyal to what they would consider theirs. Tony would be good where Loki is bad, but he would still praise him for his tricks just as Loki would praise him for his inventions. And what inventions they would make – together, they could reveal every secret the Nines can offer.

“Yes”, he agrees quietly. “Yes, it would.”

And there it is again, Tony's usual grin. But still, his eyes are warm and almost soft, and they make Loki ache for something he doesn't yet dare to take. Seconds and maybe even minutes drop by, silent but not entirely uncomfortable. Suddenly, something shifts – Loki's magic settles down at last, for what he feels is the final time today. He is determined to make this work, for he will _not_ loose or ruin what has just begun.

Loki does not give easily, and certainly not generously. He just takes, usually. But Tony deserves more, deserves the world, and Loki wants to give everything he has to that one mortal man.

“Loki?”

Pulled out of his thoughts, the god blinks, returning his full attention to a smirking Tony. “Yes?”

“You keep zoning out today.”

Loki smiles a little, because even if he should be uncomfortable with Tony knowing how off balance he is right know, he isn't. “I am just... surprised, that is all.”

“Yeah, me too”, Tony agrees, but before Loki can say something – _surprised you could like someone like_ me _, are you not?_ \- the human laughs and shakes his head. “I mean, I always knew that you didn't _not_ like me. But sometimes I was sure that you didn't even want my company.”

Guilt settles down in Loki's chest. Tony doesn't look sad or bitter – quite to the contrary, even, with his relieved smile and the giddiness Loki could sense in his laugh – but still, the mage doesn't want the mortal to believe that Loki has ever _not_ wanted his company. He follows an impulse and approaches Tony, sitting down next to him.

“I am sorry that I made you think that”, he tells the human, and he can see surprise and something like softness in his eyes. “I've always enjoyed your company. Very much.”

“I'm glad”, Tony replies, obviously teasing. It calms Loki, somehow, making him smile as the other man chuckles.

They are suddenly very close, because Tony has shifted so their thighs are almost touching. Not for the first time this day, Loki has to fight the urge to _touch_ , which is even harder now that he knows that Tony probably wouldn't resent an attempt of that sort. To distract himself, he taps at the cover of the book he is still holding, drawing Tony's attention to it.

“You wish to know me?”, Loki asks, his uncertainty making it sound like a question.

“That's what I said”, Tony nods.

“I suppose you know that grand parts of this book aren't necessarily true.”

“Oh, I hoped so.” The inventor's grin shows his teeth and, yes, there is that flutter in Loki's chest again. “You know, reading you're married was a real disappointment.”

“Sigyn would agree with you, I think, since she doesn't particularly like being my wife.”

Tony's expression falls for a moment, but only until their eyes look again. “You're a bastard, Lokes”, he informs the god. “Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Loki lets out a pensive hum. “Yes, you. Already twice today, actually.”

Tony huffs, but doesn't quite manage to seem cross. “So, for the record, you're not married?”

“I am not, and never was”, the god replies, his smile faltering. “I'm not sure how that information found its way into your myths about us, but I do suspect it to be Odin's doing.”

“Odin?”, Tony parrots, his expression telling Loki that he has heard the bitterness in Loki's voice. “How?”

Loki hesitates, not comfortable with telling the mortal about this. But Tony has said that he wanted to know the mage, and Loki doesn't want to discourage that wish. “You know that”, he begins tentatively, “for a long time, I was the second prince of Asgard. There were always rumours, voices that entitled me as argr, and the Allfather did his best to work against them.”

“Okay”, Tony drawls, “I have no idea what that word means, but I don't like it.”

He sounds upset, clear resentment coloring his voice, and it makes Loki's smile return because Tony _cares_. “I'm not fond if it, either”, Loki says, looking at Tony and trying to seem blithe. “I think there is no word in your language that really describes what an ergi, meaning someone who is argr, is. One could use 'unmanly', though, I suppose.”

“Oh, I see where this is going”, Tony says, obviously irked. “So Asgardians are homophobic.”

“Not exactly”, Loki objects, shaking his head. “A man can be with another man without being argr, as long as he isn't the receptive partner. And the word covers other actions and mannerisms as well – using magic, for example, which is considered to be a womanly profession.”

There is a rather long span of silence after that, and while Loki looks at Tony he tries to see what the other man is thinking. He knows that he is tensing again, and it seems that Tony notices that as well.

“I think your magic is awesome”, the inventor states eventually. “I think _you_ are awesome. And I'm really, really glad that you're not married _and_ into guys.”

It startles a laugh out of Loki. He doesn't remember that anyone has ever praised him like this, with simple and genuine affection speaking through the words. He wants to hear it again, and he wants to answer every single question Tony might have – and he knows that Tony is immensely curious about magic -, because he _knows_ that the mortal won't see Loki's abilities as something shameful. Maybe he wouldn't even mind about who, about _what_ Loki is, and maybe that is the most delighting thought Loki has ever had. It's relieving, and probably addictive and dangerous, but in the moment the mage doesn't care about the latter.

“Thank you”, he says, still smiling.

Tony nudges Loki's arm, and then his hand stays exactly there. “Always, Rudolph.”

“Stop that, Stark.”

Tony just laughs at that. His hand wanders down Loki's arm, the touch careful as if he expects to be rejected at any second. He talks as his hand moves, causing Loki to think that the human might try to distract him from the touch.

“I have like tons of questions to everything in this book”, he says, “and to millions of other things, too, so you'll have to keep up with a lot of asking. Think you're ready for that?”

There's concern beneath the seemingly teasing words, caution behind boldness. Loki feels warmth rising in his chest, or rather in his whole body, when he notices that, and his heart rate speeds up. It doesn't take him long to answer.

“I will tell you everything”, he promises. “But I would rather start from scratch instead of with this book. And not now.”

“Oh?” Tony's hand has found Loki's by now, and the mortal entwines their fingers. “And what do you have in mind for now?”

Tony is flirting again, and this time, Loki responds in kind.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And what do you have in mind for now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one!!  
> So, initially, this chapter wasn't even a part of the story which already ended with chapter three. But my friend asked for smut. So I added smut. xD (I'm neither experienced nor good in writing smut, though, so... I'm sorry?)  
> I hope you like the last part! You can't believe how happy I am about the feedback I've gotten so far. Thank you so, so much!! And have fun reading!

Loki sets the book aside and lets his thumb stroke over the other man's palm, enjoying how the skin feels beneath his fingers, rough from Tony's work but warm, and he relishes in the way Tony reacts to the touch. A wide smile and a pleased and _promising_ look in his eyes.

“I could think of one or two things”, Loki muses, averting his gaze from Tony's hands to look at him.

Tony's eyes are positively blazing, pupils blown wide with something that makes a shiver run down Loki's spine. His lips are parted in an entranced smile, and before Loki even knows what he is doing, he leans forward to capture Tony's lips with his.

He wants to be gentle, though, and even if it is hard to restrain himself when he feels Tony smile against his lips and shudder under his touch, Loki manages. Only brushing his lips over the other man's in the beginning, the god tries for softness. It isn't something he's particularly used to, being soft and loving to his lovers, since he hasn't cared for anyone he has kissed in a long time. But, sighing faintly against Loki's lips, Tony positively melts into him, and joyful warmth runs through the mage when he realizes that the inventor likes being kissed like this, kissed by _him_.

That's probably the thought that makes Loki stop thinking at all. His hands move on their own account, carefully stroking up Tony's chest before they cradle the human's jaw. Tony presses against him, and Loki feels fingers where his shirt exposes his skin. They brush over his collarbone while Tony's other hand finds its way to Loki's hair, gently tugging at the strands. It's a demand, and it is clarified by the hand in Loki's neck that pulls him even closer. The god gladly obliges, delighted to deepen the kiss when Tony opens his mouth. It looses a little of its softness as their tongues meet and Loki believes he's heard someone gasp, even though he couldn't say whom. But it seems that Tony is just as claiming and keen as Loki is, and the mage _revels_ in it.

Eventually, the god has to pull away even if the only thing he wants is more, but he can still feel Tony's rather harsh breaths against his lips. It reminds him that his lover – because he can and he _will_ call Tony that now – is human and oh so fragile, and that Loki has to watch out for him. Tony makes a quite disappointed noise, anyway, and brown, accusing eyes look into the god's own when he opens them.

“Who allowed you to stop?”, Tony requires, and Loki chuckles as he starts to trace kisses along the inventor's jaw.

He is panting a little himself by now, but it is more due to arousal than lack of oxygen, and he still believes that he could continue without air much longer than Tony. And so he waits, nuzzling Tony's cheek with his nose and smiling into his skin, until the other man's breathing gets steadier again.

Now, he hears a content hum coming from Tony, and he doesn't resist when he is pulled into an embrace. He feels Tony's lips and his breath against his throat, and he shudders while he wraps his arms slowly and carefully around the smaller man.

“I've thought about this”, Tony mumbles, and then he sits up a little – Loki mourns the loss of closeness, even if it is only minor – and looks into the god's eyes.

It doesn't take Loki long until he recognizes Tony's expression as _happiness_ , and he shifts closer again until their foreheads are touching. “You have?”

“Mhhm”, Tony affirms with a smirk. Loki returns his smile, his eyes flickering over the human's face in mere astonishment. Tony chuckles a little, his eyes positively sparkling. “Hell, I've literally dreamed about this.”

“When?”, Loki asks, curious.

“A few times since we're here, actually”, the engineer answers, his hands wandering up to gently clutch at Loki's shoulders. “Nothing like having an actual god in your bed when you're not allowed to touch, right?”

Loki's smile widens at the thought that Tony has desired him before, and he pulls the human even closer. “You did touch me”, he reminds him, whispering into Tony's ear.

“Yup, and I really want to do it again.”

Loki has to laugh, lighthearted and almost dizzy with relief. Because all his troubled thoughts, all his magic's rioting, it was all unfounded. He worried for no reason, because Tony wants him, _him_ , and this is going to be _glorious_.

“I have dreamed about this, too”, he says quietly, letting his lips ghost over Tony's temple. “But I've never hoped for anything beyond those dreams. And now you are...”

“Here”, Tony offers, and then he breaks away so that their eyes can lock. “I'm here.”

Loki smiles – _beams_ , even – and leans in for another kiss. Tony's lips and tongue meet Loki's fiercely and his hands begin to roam over the god's chest, making Loki utterly glad that he has decided against both his more formal asgardian clothing and his leather armour in the morning. Through the fabric of the rather simple green shirt he's wearing he can feel the warmth of Tony's hands, and he was right, this _is_ glorious. Loki cannot say how much time they spend like this, kissing and touching and all the while wanting to get closer yet. Loki drinks in Tony's gasps for air, the human's breath hot and quivering against his lips, and savours all the little pants and sounds close to _whimpers_ Tony generously gives. He himself responds just in kind, and now and then he hears a breathless chuckle when Tony notices that he has Loki moaning. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears when he pulls away in the end, panting. Now he _is_ out of breath, and Tony's smug grin tells him that he has noticed it as well.

“This trip was the be-”, Tony begins, but his breath hitches when Loki's lips wander from Tony's mouth, down to his jaw until they reach his neck. The skin there is warm and soft, and Loki smiles into it as Tony leans his head back, exposing his throat for the open-mouthed kisses Loki plants on it.

Tony clutches at the mage's shoulders and _laughs_ , raw and hoarse and unmistakably delighted, his throat vibrating beneath Loki's lips. Then his hands start wandering and suddenly Loki's feels them on his bare skin, under his shirt. Tony's fingers ghost over his belly; Loki's muscles twitch in reaction to the warm touch that shouldn't be as surprisingly wonderful as it is. He nibbles at Tony's skin, and doesn't bother to suppress his gasp when the human grabs Loki's waist, his fingers digging into his skin to pull him closer. Loki looks up and they kiss again, more desperate now, almost clumsy. Only when Tony tugs at the god's shirt Loki breaks away.

Tony is smiling, face red and eyes dark, and somehow Loki has troubles thinking straight – he knows where this is leading, and he hasn't _planned_ for it to happen so soon – actually, he hasn't planned for it to happen at all. For a brief moment, he hesitates, searching for any signs of reluctance or insincerity in Tony's face, but just by looking at him Loki _knows_ that the mortal's desire is neither forced nor faltering. No, it is true and fierce and _for Loki_ , and the god doesn't have the strength or the will to waste it. So, he obeys the mortal's unspoken wish and allows his lover to pull his shirt over his head.

Dismissed, it lands somewhere next to the bed on the floor, and Loki runs his hand through his hair to keep it from falling into his eyes. It is entangled and messy – somehow, he hasn't had the nerves to care for his hair today – and he knows that his cheeks and chest are flushed and his lips swollen, but Tony apparently doesn't care. In fact, the engineer's eyes grow even darker while he takes in the sight, as if Loki's the most gorgeous thing they have ever seen. He smiles a wide smile full of awe, and then his hands are on Loki's bare chest, fingers dancing over his skin. Loki quivers a little when he leans down, pressing his lips on Tony's once more. Tony moves without breaking their kiss, somehow, and ends up sitting in the trickster's lap. An appreciative sound rises up in Loki's throat, not much more than a low growl, when he feels that Tony is hard – aroused, _for him_. He grabs Tony's waist and draws him closer, lets out a quivering breath when he sees Tony's eyes flutter shut, moaning in response to just a small bit of friction. Tony's hands leave his chest to get rid off his own shirt, and when that's done they return to rest at Loki's nape. Tony opens his eyes, and for a moment they just stay like this, foreheads touching, and breathe heavily against each other's lips. Tony plays with the god's hair while Loki strokes over his back, adoring how his skin feels beneath his fingers.

“Is this what you had in mind?”, Loki mumbles, his voice hoarse. “When you insisted on us sharing this room.”

Tony's muscles vibrate a little beneath Loki's hand as the inventor laughs, his eyes sparkling with sly humor. “This is what I had in mind when I chose this gloriously small ship for our mission”, he corrects. “You know – just two bedrooms.”

Loki snorts, but then Tony's mouth trails down his neck, nibbling and sucking at his skin. “And they call me a trickster”, Loki mumbles with a rather breathless laugh.

“I just hoped for a few chances to ogle, though. This is better.”

Loki completely agrees, and he wants to say something in response, but the words get lost when Tony begins caressing the god's chest. Loki's eyes flutter shut when he feels a flick of tongue on his skin, only to open again in surprise when Tony pushes him back to lay on the mattress. The inventor still straddles him when he leans over Loki to place his hands on each side of his head. Loki keeps his eyes closed while Tony explores his pale skin with hands and lips – and it is almost too easy. Too easy to simply _enjoy_ , to melt into the touches and forget every little bit of doubt he still had somewhere in the back of his mind. Tony is talented in this – not as if Loki has expected anything else – and knows how to tease, making the mage ache for the next flick of tongue or another roll of his hips.

When Tony speaks, suddenly, Loki only barely manages to blink his eyes open. The human's face is close to his, and he looks immensely pleased.

“So”, Tony stays, grinning down to the god. “How involved are you in that whole argr stuff?”

“I don't”-, he begins, but trails off when Tony shifts above him, applying pressure exactly there where Loki longs for it. Judging by the engineer's widening grin, he knows very well of the effect he has. “Your point?”, Loki manages, relishing in the mischievous glint in his lover's eyes.

“I guess you'd like it if I bottomed?”, Tony clarifies, his fingers moving down Loki's chest.

It takes Loki a moment to understand what Tony is getting at, and even when understanding dawns his confusion doesn't cease completely. “You're offering to...”

He doesn't know how to end his sentence – he knows what Tony is offering, and he also knows that midgardian men are somewhat more at ease regarding practices the Aesir would consider argr. Still, there have been only few past lovers in Loki's life who offered themselves so bluntly, and Loki can't help but be surprised.

“I don't want you to be uncomfortable with anything we do”, Tony says, not quite meeting the god's eyes. “And _I_ really don't mind, so...”

“Tony, you don't have to-”

“I want to”, he interrupts Loki, looking at him again and smiling. “Do you want me to?”

Loki draws a quivering breath, his hands clutching at the other man's waist. “ _Yes_.”

“Good”, Tony replies, his grin turning smug. “I'm completely yours, then.”

_His._

Loki pulls Tony down to press his lips against his, a groan escaping him when his mortal returns the kiss just as fiercely. It's messier than before, with clashing teeth and competing tongues, and Loki digs his fingers into Tony's hair to draw him even closer. Tony's body is almost unbearably warm, heated by desire that finds its echo in Loki. The human shudders beneath his touch as Loki's hands roam over whatever parts of his body the god can reach. Eventually, Loki decides that this is not _enough_ , and it doesn't take him much of his strength to flip them over. Tony breathes heavily beneath him, his eyes fixed on Loki. He moves backwards so Loki can kneel before him on the bed and supports himself on his elbows as the god's hands glide over Tony's legs, all the way down to his shoes. The human's grin resembles Loki's when Tony's clothes disappear in a green-golden shimmer of magic. His breath hitching, Loki's eyes roam over Tony's naked frame.

“Handy”, Tony comments with a raised brow, his dark eyes filled with the awe Loki's magic always evokes, even more satisfying now that it is mingled with lust.

Loki's grin widens before he leans down, his lips aiming for the other man's mouth. Heat pools in his lower abdomen when Tony reacts with a low moan. He feels Tony's hips jerk up, searching for pressure, and Loki forces himself to go a little bit slower. His lips trace his lover's jaw until they reach his neck, and Tony arches into his touch where Loki's hands dance over the human's chest. The god's thumb reaches one of Tony's nipples, circling around it and making Tony gasp.

Loki supports himself on his lower arm, breathing heavily against Tony's flushed skin. Burying his face in the crook of the inventor's neck, he enjoys how Tony responds to his caresses. He can feel his mortal's frantic heartbeat beneath his fingertips, has his moans and stumbling breaths ringing in his ears, and Loki drinks in every reaction greedily. He could continue like this for hours, but soon Tony gets restless beneath Loki's teasing touches, breathlessly asking for more. Loki doesn't yet oblige, but with another flash of magic he gets rid of his own pants and boots, giving a relieved groan as soon as he's freed from the far too tight fabric. He can't help himself, he rocks against Tony's hips, seeking friction, and his lover joins in in his light moaning when he feels the god's already throbbing erection against his skin. Loki feels Tony's hands on his hips, encouraging him to keep up with the movement. His nails scratch over pale skin, and Loki reacts with a bite at his throat, directly in the place where the god can feel Tony's pulse beneath his skin.

“ _Mine_ ”, he rasps out, barely aware that the word has left his lips.

Tony somehow manages to chuckle, causing Loki to look up and meet his lover's eyes, blown wide with desire. “Possessive, are we?”

“Very”, Loki mutters in response, nipping Tony's exposed throat once more before he returns to his mouth and claims it with a kiss.

His left hand wanders down Tony's chest, following the soft trail of hair that leads down to the human's groin. Tony bucks his hips when Loki closes his fingers around his cock, moaning into their kiss. When he bites Loki's lower lip, the mage can't tell whether that was on purpose or accidental. He releases Tony's lips and straightens himself a bit so he can see the whole body laying beneath him. His Tony is just as gorgeous as Loki has imagined, the human's eyes squeezed shut with pleasure and his lips parted. Shivers run through his body while Loki strokes him with experienced fingers, giving almost too gentle tugs and squeezes or flicking his finger over the head. Loki knows that he will never get enough of this sight or of the sounds Tony makes while he pleasures him. His own body is flooded with plain devotion for the mortal, yearning for the man even while he _has_ him.

The trickster leans down, planting kisses on Tony's chest without stopping the movements of his hand. He licks the skin, salty due to the light layer of sweat, inhales his lover's scent and eventually closes his mouth over one nipple. He hums in appreciation when Tony arches his back and takes hold of Loki's hair, tugging at the strands while his other hand grasps the sheets.

“Loki”, Tony exclaims, the word not much more than a shaky breath, followed by a sound that could have been a chuckle if it weren't cut by an especially clever twist of Loki's fingers. Another throaty moaning of his name, followed by a reproachful sound when the god pulls his hand away.

Loki chuckles – so _eager_ – and leans down to kiss Tony, the human's hands holding him close. He is almost tempted to give in, but as much as he would love to see Tony come undone just because of Loki's hand, he has other things in mind for now.

He breaks away from the inventor, causing Tony to open his eyes and look at him in slight dismay. But as soon as he realizes what Loki wants, the mortal's expression changes, his eyes blazing with candid _want_ , and moves backwards once more until laying in the middle of the bed. Loki comes to kneel before him, his hands sliding over Tony's legs for a second before Tony spreads them for Loki to kneel in between. The sight of him, all flushed and exposed and begging to be touched, causes the god to shiver with delight. He caresses Tony's thighs with careful touches and watches while the human calms down eventually, his breathing getting more steady again. Loki catches Tony's eye, a little part of him still expecting that Tony will still reject him in the end. But nothing like that happens, instead Tony just looks at him, now and then squirming a little under the god's hands.

“Is this truly what you want?”, Loki asks, searching for reassurance one last time.

“Can't you tell?”, Tony replies, breathless but smiling. He seems to notice Loki's hesitancy, though, his voice sounding soft during his next words. “Yes, Loki. I want you.”

At that, Loki can't help but lean forward once more, kissing Tony almost chastely. He stays there for a moment, their faces so close that their noses are almost touching, and returns the human's tender gaze. “You have done this before?”

Tony has the nerve to roll his eyes at the god's worry, but he nods with the smile not fading from his lips. He lifts his head to steal another kiss before Loki can sit up again, and watches when the god conjures a bottle of oil out of thin air. Loki half expect another praise of his magic, but Tony seems too distracted by the mage's fingers as he coats them with oil. The human wets his lips, and that is enough for Loki to decide that he isn't able to wait any longer, that he has to touch Tony _now_. And so, he does exactly that – exploring Tony's most intimate places with careful and tender but secure hands, he watches when his mortal's eyes flutter shut again and his head falls back on the sheets. He watches how Tony squirms when Loki cups his cock once more, how he bucks his hips to press into the god's hands. He keeps stroking Tony's length that curves against the quivering muscles of the human's belly, the tip already leaking a bit. Loki's own begs for attention as well, but he doesn't yet touch himself, ignoring the by now almost painful need pooling in his lower stomach. Instead, he lets his fingers wander lower until they caress the soft skin around Tony's entrance, teasing him. It earns him another low moan, another jerk of Tony's hips, and he sees his lover turning his face to the side, his chest moving up and down quickly in already labored breaths.

Somehow, Loki doesn't believe that either of them will last long this first time.

He dips the tip of his finger into Tony's entrance with the help of some more oil, a groan escaping himself as he feels how _tight_ his mortal is. He aches to bury himself in there, to kiss Tony while he does it so he can catch every single one of his lover's gasps and moans with his lips. But he restraints himself, carefully working his digit deeper, the oil making it easy. Tony undoubtedly enjoys himself already, and briefly, Loki wonders if the sight alone could be enough to make him come. It doesn't take long until he can add a second finger, stretching and curling them inside of Tony. The human reacts by rolling his hips, almost _shamelessly_ , maybe searching for that one special – ahh. Loki licks his lips and smirks in satisfaction when Tony cries out, the engineer's voice not more than a rasp. The god's fingers search for the sweet spot again, making Tony shudder and his back arch. Greedily, Loki soaks up every reaction he causes, his mind almost going blank when he realizes that this is _Tony_ – Tony, who is so fascinated by magic, who looks at Loki without judgement in his eyes, who read a book about Norse Gods because he wants to know the man that he – _loves_.

Because maybe, hopefully, that is what this is.

“Loki”, Tony cries out, his voice hoarse and on the edge of pleading, followed by - “Loki – more, please, _more._ ”

Loki can't do anything but obey. Still, he forces himself to move slowly when he removes his fingers. Then, he climbs over the other man, supporting himself with one hand while the other one strokes over Tony's side. When Loki's lips positively crash against his, the mortal returns the kiss with just as much desperation. But the god doesn't allow it to last long, instead he pulls away after a few seconds to look at the other man. Maybe Tony could see or sense the question in Loki's eyes, because he nods fiercely, his hands entangled in Loki's hair to keep him as close as he wants him to be.

Loki reaches down between their bodies to take himself in hand, shivering at the sensation and with the ache for _more_. His fingers are still slick with oil, and so he doesn't hesitate to line himself up with Tony's entrance. The human's chest is heaving beneath him, the grip of his hands in Loki's hair becoming almost painful, and when Loki pushes in – carefully, inch by inch, he still remembers how fragile his lover his – Tony keens, the faint smile of his lips widening into a small laugh of _relief_. Loki moans, burying his face in the crook of Tony's neck as tight hotness surrounds his length. Shudders run through his body when every inch of him is inside, and Tony wraps his legs around the mage's hips, locking him in place. He feels lips against his temple, and he responds by pressing his own on the skin of Tony's neck. When he begins to move, rocking against Tony with small thrusts, Loki can hear him gasp, his lover's mouth so very close to Loki's ear. His own breath comes in hisses and pants he only barely smothers by open-mouthed kisses on Tony's throat. There are nails digging into his back, scratching and maybe even leaving streaks, and now and then Loki leaves his own marks by nibbling and biting at Tony's skin. Tony clings to Loki, clutching first his shoulders then his sides, urging the mage to pound faster.

Loki lifts his head and grasps the sheets with one hand, searching for support. He rolls his hips more fiercely, watching Tony's head fall back. Between his lover's pants and moans, Loki can hear hitched whispers of his own name, rolling off of Tony's lips as if it is the only word he still remembers. And Loki does the same, breathes out _Tony's_ name just in the same way Tony moans _Loki's_ , and he tries to find the right angle as he keeps thrusting into the mortal. He knows that he _has_ when Tony cries out, holding onto the god even tighter while his channel clenches around Loki's length. It's almost too much, too intense, too _wonderful_ , but Loki keeps pressing into Tony, hitting the same spot and again and again, and oh, it doesn't take long. Tony comes undone beneath him, clenching and shuddering as he spills himself between their bodies, and then there's another sigh of the mage's name – and Loki follows, pressing against Tony while pleasure floods his body.

For what could be eternities, they just lay there like this, both catching their breaths and holding each other close. Loki takes his time to enjoy the daze the waves of lust have left in his mind and the deep and utterly _happy_ satisfaction that followed. But, after some time, he slowly pulls back and lets himself fall next to Tony, turning his head to look at the other man.

Tony's eyes are closed, his breathing slowly steadying down again, and he is _beautiful_. Loki hesitates, but he aches for closeness, now even more than before, and in the end he lifts his hand from the bed to let it hover inches above Tony's body. He cleans the mess they have made with magic, causing Tony to open his eyes in surprise. But before the human can say something, anything that could make Loki think that he isn't _allowed_ to do what he wants, Loki curls against the warm body next to him. Tentatively, he rests his head above Tony's heart, close to the place where the arc reactor has been, and places his hand on Tony's stomach.

But only when Tony finally wraps his arms around the mage Loki allows himself to relax, closing his eyes and exhaling the breath he has held. He can feel Tony's hand on his back, drawing lazy circles on his skin.

“So you like cuddling”, he hears Tony say, voice quiet and raspy but ever so gentle.

“I do”, Loki mutters. “With you.”

Tony pulls him even closer, tighter into his embrace, and Loki smiles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think!!
> 
> Also Lokislonelylady (again, thank you so much for your comments and interest!) asked for a sequel - would anyone else be interested in reading something like that? If that's the case, please let me know! (I certainly feel the need to resolve why they went on this mission in the first place... because I've somehow forgotten that. Whoops.)


End file.
